


My R

by nyoro_n



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Fanvid, Gen, animatic in second chapter, discussion of suicide, you probably shouldn't read this if that upsets you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoro_n/pseuds/nyoro_n
Summary: Martha can't stop getting interrupted when she goes to the Old Mill Bridge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by My R, specifically rachie's cover. The song is gorgeous and honestly it's helped me a lot.  
> It's been a while since I watched the bootleg, so I'm sorry if they're out of character.

Martha didn’t walk all the way to the Old Mill Bridge just for someone to get there before her. She clutched her purse tightly when she recognized him. 

Jason Dean had been climbing already, with one foot dangling off the edge.

In all honesty, he scared her enough that she was afraid that he’d shoot her if she got in his way. And, like, she wanted to die, but she didn’t want to die in a way that was slow like that would most likely be (he was in very obvious distress, she couldn’t trust his aim). Despite her hesitation, she yelled out to him-

“Hey! What are you doing?”

He turned towards her and there were tear streaks running down his face and oh god, she didn’t want to deal with this at all-

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” He yelled, then softened when he saw the source of the voice. He had nothing against her, really. “Oh, it’s you. Have we ever talked?”

Martha relaxed her grip on her purse and asked: “I don’t know, will we ever?” and her voice cracked. He shifted his foot and hauled it back over the edge.

\--

Martha figured that he was leaving some very important things out in his retelling of the breakup, but knowing Veronica lately, it was the only account she’d hear so she grasped on to every second of it like a lifeline. (ha)

“I thought we had something special. It felt like we had the power of the world at our fingertips, we were gonna change it, we were changing the world and she decided that she didn’t want my company despite everything that we built.”

“And why was that?” Martha asked, knowing that it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s really not important right now.”

“You’re not entitled to a happy ending with her, you know. She wasn’t your possession- she wasn’t stolen, she decided that you weren’t for her.”

He didn’t respond.

“Besides,” she said, trying to remedy the situation, “It’s not like, um, you can’t find someone else and be happy with them. It’s not like you and her couldn’t make up. You, uh, doing that... would eliminate all of those possibilities and you’d never be happy.” Those words felt endlessly bitter on her tongue when she thought about

He looked at her strangely. “I guess I can try one more time,” he said, and continued sitting there. Martha guessed she couldn’t do what she wanted to do that night, so she excused herself and went back home.

\--

The next day she walked the half a mile, again, and was met with an unpleasant surprise, again:

Heather McNamara with her hair and tears spilling over the ledge, Heather McNamara about to throw an apple over to see how much it splatters, Heather McNamara with a note written in gold gel pen clutched tightly in her pretty, skinny, manicured hand.

Martha almost didn’t want to stop her (what a situation, where she’d save her bully), but she was ultimately too nice and called out to her.

Hather jerked violently and jumped back from the edge. She turned around and saw Martha and just started crying harder. Martha imagined she found the situation just as awkward as she did.

\--

“I don’t know, I just feel so alone.” Heather said. 

Martha didn’t say anything.

“There’s so much pressure on me to wear good clothes, to act a certain way, and I feel like sometime I’m going to explode, but I know if I do people will push me away. If I do anything I… it’s like I’m Heather’s pretty little doll that she can break all she wants, and she’s twisting my neck farther and farther to see how long it’ll take for me to snap and,”  
She notices the look on Martha’s face

“Well, you get what I’m saying.”

Martha really, really didn’t. She couldn’t understand how someone like her, on the top rung of the social ladder, couldn’t be happy. She wished that Heather were nicer so she could make the connections she was supposed to be making.

“I just wish everyone would stop fighting. Is that too much to ask?” Heather said, no longer looking at Martha but at some invisible thing. 

“I wish it wasn’t,” Martha said, and Heather finally realized who she was talking to.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was scared, that’s not an excuse, but this is how you feel all the time, isn’t it? And I made you feel this way. I did that.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t all you, but yeah. You were a part of it,” slipped out of Martha’s mouth because she was too tired to stop herself. She wondered if Heather even realized why she was there. 

“Why are you stopping me?”

“You have people to go home to, and a friend that cares.” Said Martha, wishing she could say the same.

Heather nodded, and pulled Martha into a very uncomfortable hug. Today just wasn’t her day.

\--

There was a pattern. Every time Martha walked to that bridge, she saw one of her classmates far too close to the edge. Every time, she talked them out of it in a way she hoped sounded sincere.

Every time, she got even more tired, and just wished for the peace and quiet of the fall. She was tempted to just find some pills or hack at herself with a knife, but she was too stubborn to give up on the bridge.

She knew that if someone saw her at the ledge, they wouldn’t even bother.

\-- 

When she walked this time, she didn’t even expect to see the bridge empty. She thought she was numb to all of it by then, but she wasn’t.

Heather Duke was standing on the edge. She turned around at the sound of footsteps and Martha saw the lack of tears and surplus of emptiness in her eyes.

“Piss off fatass. Do you have anywhere else to be?”

Martha had heard so much that she didn’t bother trying to appear innocent.

“Clearly not. You don’t seem to, either. Wanna tell me what you’re here for?”

“You clearly wouldn’t fucking understand.”

“Try me.”

Duke turns back around.

“I hate my body. I hate myself. I can’t stop puking my guts out because of how pathetic I am and I just want to end it. But you’re here.” Her voice dripped with anger.

Martha didn’t think any of her input would be helpful.

“Why are you even listening to me? You hate me, you have plenty of reason to hate me and I’m not sorry. Go the fuck away and leave me to die.”

“No.”

\--

After more fighting, she managed to get Duke to step away from the ledge. The girl furiously stormed off, and Martha decided she was too exhausted then to deal with it if it didn’t work and 

 

 

 

 

 

\--

then she woke up.

\--

When she walked to the bridge next, there was no one there before her.


	2. now with a animatic :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway I made an animatic based on this fic and here it is

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a huge Martha stan fight me


End file.
